


Adventures in Modern Style

by WitchyWriter



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Anytime After QOTD, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Ear Piercings, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Lestat being dramatic and eccentric, Louis' POV, M/M, Tattoos, They're cute, ToTBT-mention, they're idiots tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchyWriter/pseuds/WitchyWriter
Summary: After centuries of looking the same, Lestat and Louis (mostly Lestat) decide to shake things up a bit.
Relationships: Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71





	1. Wine Red or Cobalt Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Which color do you think suits me best darling?” He asked, holding up a bottle of wine red and cobalt blue nail polish, “The blue brings out my eyes, but the red matches my attitude; which do you prefer?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work in progress, but done at the time of the last posted chapter. I add chapters as I get ideas, so please feel free to add some ideas in the comments!

Vampires retaining the same form for as long as they walk the Earth is a key part of our identity. Hair never growing, facial hair never changing, body being as you were when the last drop of mortal blood was sucked from your veins, and your nails never grow. Of course we can change these things, chopping off an inch or two for the evening or simply shaving down the scalp. I had the honor of watching Lestat during one of his historic temper fits shave off ever inch of his gorgeous locks; only to throw himself back into his coffin and not rise until it had all grown back. That’s the thing with our immortality of course, anything changed always goes back to the way it was at the moment of death.

Why we allowed our nails to be this long in the first place I have no idea, it’s one of my greatest irritations. 

Lestat on the other hand as of late has found a new way to change his appearance. He’s tried cutting his hair to his chin, dying it various shades of brown and blue, straightening it and even tried out braiding patterns on himself. He got quite good at that after a few weeks, even being brave enough to try out a few French braids on me when I was asleep. I feigned annoyance but in truth, I thought I looked quite dashing.

Leaving his hair alone for once, he’s discovered nail polish.

He thinks that I don’t notice of course and I can’t quite tell whether it angers or relieves him. On one hand my Lestat, ever the performer, likes to be noticed everywhere he goes and makes a grand huff if you don’t. But on the other, he doesn’t like to be embarrassed, and if he does something he’s unsure of he would surely never show it off or admit it. He was a prideful creature and any shots at his expense would surely make it a miserable night. So I’ve let it alone and continued about my reading and feeding, giving him no reactions one way or the other. 

Tonight, I found myself sitting in the bathtub, hoping and praying for some time alone. It’s very rare in this house of ours to find a quiet spot to sit and do much of anything; Lestat talks too much to ever allow me a moment of silence. I’ve recently started reading Emily Dickinson’s poetry and have found myself extremely invested in every line. Just as I turn to get another one of her books resting on a stool just outside of the tub, the bathroom door opens and in walks Lestat. Under his arm, he’s clutching a small makeup bag and a bottle of acetone.

“Don’t mind me Louis, I know you’ve come to get away from me” He says quickly, closing the door with his heel and setting up his haul on the counter, “you won’t even know I’m here.” 

I roll my eyes, “That’s the thing about you Lestat, I always know that you’re here.” 

He walks over to me and sits down on the stool at my side, running his fingers through my long hair. A sort of peace offering for disturbing me, he’s not going to leave me alone tonight I can tell. His nails on my scalp feels good, but I can’t help but notice the bright pink nail polish that’s painted on every one. Lestat follows my eyes and quickly pulls his hand away, a bright smile coming over his face. He’s slightly embarrassed. 

“Never mind that Louis, go back to your literature and I’ll just be over here.” He gets up and goes back over to the counter, pulling multiple small bottles of polish out and putting them in a neat row. 

He’s being quiet and ever so careful not to disturb me, every once in a while peeking over at me when I turn a page. This is not the embarrassed and unsure Lestat, he desperately wants my attention and is putting on his “good boy” act to get it. I could be kind and lavish him in it, overwhelming him with my affection and ending the game early. But just like him, I know how to hold out and make the most of opportunities when they arise. 

“Which color do you think suits me best darling?” He asked, holding up a bottle of wine red and cobalt blue nail polish, “The blue brings out my eyes, but the red matches my attitude; which do you prefer?” 

I look over nonchalantly, eyes barely leaving the page in front of me, “I think that they’re both fine, either would suite you nicely.” 

He doesn’t like my answer and furrows his brows, a low huff ensures that I’m aware of his displeasure, “That’s hardly an answer Louis,” He turns back to the mirror and holds up each bottle to his hands and eyes, “fine, I’ll go with the red then, but I don’t want to hear anything if you don’t like it.” Turning his head to face me, his eyes set and determined to play out my game.

“Now why would I care what color is on your nails Lestat? They’re your hands.” 

I can see him tense up slightly out of the corner of my eye, but quickly right himself so that I don’t take notice. Removing the cap of the bottle, he starts testing it out on his pinky nail before nodding with approval. 

“May I use this stool?” He’s looking down at me with a sickeningly innocent look in his eyes, batting his long eyelashes. 

Without looking up from my book I push it towards him, a small grumble coming from his lips as he drags it across the floor back to the sink. Minutes go by and I finish my book and lend an eye to my brat prince, who is hunched over the sink with his tongue sticking out slightly, an unwavering focus on his little art project. So focused, he doesn’t notice me standing behind him and watching him delicately brush the excess paint off of the applicator and put it to each nail, lightly cursing to himself when it gets on his cuticles. When he’s finished he holds his hands out in front of him, a proud smile stretches across his face that reaches his ears. That’s when he notices me looming behind him 

“Wha- Ah! Louis, how long have you been standing there?” 

I kiss the top of his head, “Since the start of the second coat. And I must say, you chose correctly, the red does look quite lovely.” 

This makes his eyes light up, any sense of acknowledgment right now probably would. My poor Lestat is so attention starved that my telling him he had something on his face would make him gush. It feels cruel, but I do enjoy leading the way for once. 

Without any further comment, I leave him alone in the bathroom so that I can get dressed while the polish dries. As I’m buttoning up my shirt I can hear the stool slide back into place and Lestat slowly put away the little mess that he made. He slinks out of the bathroom, carefully brushing nonexistent hair away from his face as a means to show off his new manicure. The varnish accentuates how pale his skin is and makes him look all the more like an inhuman statue. He did an impeccable job not getting it all over his fingers, nights worth of practice has certainly done him well. 

Suddenly, he drops the act of attempted subtly and runs over to me, shoving his hands in my face, “Look, look! They came out so great even I’m surprised! This is a new color that I picked up from the beauty store not far from here; I wasn’t so sure about the shade but it reminded me of dinner so I picked it and thought ‘What the hell?’” Lestat sounded like an excited school girl, not caring anymore about begging for my affection. He was simply too proud of himself to care. 

I smiled lovingly and took his hands into my own, kissing the tops of them and making direct eye contact with him all the while, “They look marvelous dear, I’m very proud of you.”

This makes Lestat melt, throwing his arms around me and squeezing me tightly, “ _Merci _Louis, now was that so hard to do? Sometimes I think that you hate me for real the way that you ignore me sometimes .”__

____He leans out of our embrace and takes my hands again, staring at my nails for an unusually long amount of time. I see a flash of joy come over his eyes, it’s always a scary thing when you can see the wheels spinning in his head. You never quite know what’s going on in there. Lestat grips my hands tighter, not letting me go and looks into my eyes with another falsely innocent expression,_ _ _ _

____“How do you feel about the color purple, my love?”_ _ _ _


	2. Flamingo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestat decides to spend the night with Manic Panic rather than Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the boys changing their appearance! Let me know how you like it and I might just keep writing them, I'm having a lot of fun with these. :)

My nails have been every hue of every color in the rainbow for the last month. Last night, Lestat decided that a flamboyant shade of red would suit me quite nicely. I put on a face and huffed while he did it, but when I find myself alone I can’t help but admire the effort and care he puts into each nail. As for himself, he’s moved on from painting his nails and gotten back into dyeing his hair. Three nights ago he came downstairs, bearing a huge smile and head full of bright purple curls. Tonight, he snuck out just as I rose and was ever so secretive as to where he was off to. When he returned he was the same paper-white man that left, having not fed but procured a single plastic bag. He wouldn’t tell me where he went or what it was other than that it was a surprise. Which was Lestat code for something he bought that he knew I wouldn’t approve of but wanted me to be excited anyway. 

Knowing him recently, this means he bought more hair dye. 

Instead of going into the master bathroom like he usually does, he chose to do his nefarious activity in the one across the hall from the library. He wanted my attention quite directly this evening and to once again disturb my solitude. Other than my occasional bath, the library in our home was almost completely mine. Over the years, Lestat has learned to enjoy reading but never to the same extent as myself. He tries desperately, but he would rather watch the grandeur of a story told before his eyes than sit and make it up himself. So, he’s almost completely left the library for me; giving me new editions and stories every chance that he gets. Some nights I find myself sucked into them, Lestat having to forcefully remove me from my chair to get me into my coffin before the sun takes me alive. This was one of those nights where I lose myself in the text. I’ve recently discovered Stephen King and I must say I think he’s quite the horrific man, I love ever letter. 

Being pulled from the final pages of _“Carrie" _, Lestat suddenly calls out to me from the closed door of the bathroom.__

__“Louis! Louis my darling can you come here and help me please?” He yells sweetly, his voice of false innocence once again being pushed to the front._ _

__I try to ignore him, the end of my story just moments away. But alas, he yells for me again, his voice no longer holding the same tone._ _

__“My arm is about to fall off Louis, I meant right now! Please?”_ _

__Sighing deeply and resting my book on the arm of the chair, I get up and slowly make my way to the door. I take a deep breath before I turn the knob and prepare myself for whatever he has going on in there. When I open the door, Lestat is standing in front of the oval shaped mirror above the sink, a towel wrapped around his neck and a small brush with dye on it in his hand._ _

__His hair is bright pink._ _

__I throw my hand over my open mouth, my eyes go wide as I stand there in shock at what’s before me. The last time he dyed his hair this vibrant of a color it was a night for the books. He was so thrilled to dye his hair blue, but he decided it clashed with his eyes too much so he threw a fit. Putting a crack in the upstairs sink with how hard his fist came down against the marble. The shears were out before I could stop him, screaming something about how he looked like a Troll doll, as he took every lock of his hair from his head. Then seeing himself bald, he screamed so violently he broke the bathroom mirror, quite literally flew into his coffin and wouldn’t let me look at him. We share a sleeping space now, so I had to use my own for the first time in five years. When we rose the following evening, there we streaks of blood all over his night shirt and he was frantically rubbing his hands on his head to make sure each inch grew back._ _

__I shuddered thinking of that night and brought myself back to now, to Lestat pouting in the mirror and furiously tapping his olive green painted nails on the counter._ _

__“Are you going to wait until this is plastered to my head and uneven or are you going to help me dye the back?” He said, irritated at how long I was taking._ _

__‘Well excuse me my darling, it’s not everyday that I walk in to you having pink hair.” I retorted taking the brush from his hands._ _

__It took me a couple of strokes to get the hang of it, but eventually I started applying the neon dye evenly until it coated the entire back of Lestat’s head. With his constant and careful reminders to not get it on his skin or clothes, it was finally done._ _

__He looked admiringly at himself in the mirror, his hair plastered to his head in one large pink lump. The excitement and anticipation practically radiated off of him as I stared at him from against the door frame._ _

__“So, why pink? We’ve done brown, purple and blue already. Why not red or orange?”_ _

__Lestat turned on his heels, anticipating my giving an opinion of some kind and the answer practically falling out of his mouth._ _

__“Everyone does red Louis! It’s the color all of those teenage mortal children do these days. Besides, I would rival Armand for the best redhead in your life and I wouldn’t want to blow him out of the water. I have respect for my elders after all.”_ _

__He smiles as he says this, clearly enjoying his little jab as I throw my head back and let out a loud laugh._ _

__“Oh _mon amour _, the two of you aren’t comparable by any means! He would win by far,” This made him angry on the spot, punching me straight in my chest and opening his mouth to fire something back, “because I much prefer blondes and you’re the best and only blonde in my life. Why you would try and go for another’s title when you’re already number one is absurd.” I say slowly, trying not to catch another hit as I catch my breath from the first._ _ __

__

__This satisfies him slightly with a subtle “Hmm” as he looks past me to the face of the grandfather clock in the hallway._ _

__

__“It’s been twenty minutes! Move I have to get into the shower and wash this out!” Lestat’s body was practically vibrating and flew up the stairs with the sentence still forming._ _

__

__I stand at the base of the stairs, shoulders tensed and ready for the grand scream of displeasure and the cracking of glass. I waited and waited until a half hour went by and it never came, so I decide it’s safe to go up to the bathroom and check on him. I don’t have to go very far, a flurry of pink curls visible from the hallway. Making my way into the master bedroom, he’s dancing around the room in his robe and catching his own eye in every reflective surface; laughing like a school girl and running his fingers through his long locks. His hair is much softer than I thought, less of a neon and more of a pastel pink. It suits him perfectly, the subtle warm hues bringing out the brightness of his eyes and just how pale he is. He looks like a cotton candy toned ghost, I really have to get him fed tonight. Lestat’s been so consumed with his escapades he’s been forgetting that he has to stop and eat._ _

__

__He sees me in the doorway and a smile brighter than God’s spreads across his face, “LOUIS, LOUIS, LOUIS DON’T YOU LOVE IT? ISN’T IT GORGEOUS!” He squeals so loud the windows shake._ _

__

__I can’t help but smile along with him and hold out my hands and gesture for him to come towards me. He doesn’t walk, but runs into my arms headfirst making me touch his hair. It’s as soft as it’s ever been, the bright color not changing it’s texture in the slightest._ _

__

__“It looks marvelous darling, truly an improvement from the blue. You look like a dashing flamingo.” I say encouragingly, scratching his scalp and planting a small kiss on his temple._ _

__

__“A flamingo?” Lestat mutters with vague disappointment, “Not a wonderful carnation or a stunning azalea?”_ _

__

__Grabbing ahold of his face, I take in the wonder that is his new lion’s mane of pink hair, “I’m sorry sweetheart, you are every beautiful pink thing that there is in the world. Including the humble flamingo.”_ _

__

__Lestat kisses me on my nose and pulls me in the direction of the stairs, “Well if you think it’s so beautiful, I still have some dye left.”_ _

__

__I stop in my tracks and shake my head aggressively, his superior strength nearly crushing my hand, “As wondrous as you look my Azalea, my hair is much too dark to take on that bright of a color. Besides, I can’t outshine you as the only and most handsome pink haired one in my life.”_ _

__

__This satisfies him somewhat and I can see the thought leave his head, another unfortunately taking it’s place._ _

__

__“No matter, I bought this silver nail polish at the beauty store and I just repainted mine, yours is chipping darling we must change it!” And with another gentle tug we were off, my use as a guinea pig never coming to an end and my love for him never changing along with it._ _

__


	3. Faded By Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestat and Louis venture into a tattoo shop. Lestat has an interesting design and an even more interesting placement

There’s the subtle scent of rain in the air as Lestat pulls me by my hand down the dark streets of the French Quarter. His whirlwind of pink hair flowing behind him in the gentle cool breeze. The lights reflect themselves off of his hair, undertones of his traditional golden locks peaking out. We’ve discovered that his hair stays whatever color he wills it for only two nights, by the third the color fades back to its original and he throws a fit over his roots growing in. I’ve taken up the occupation of dyeing Lestat’s hair for him now, he complains that it’s because his arms hurt but I know that he just likes the feeling of my fingers in his hair. The way that he closes his eyes and leans back in almost a trance gives it away every single time. I’ve also managed to be overwhelmingly successful in keeping his paws off of my hair every night since the dye made its way into our house. He’s asks, almost begs, to bleach it or cut it or even put extensions in it. I will say though, the thought of my hair being even longer than it is now is quite appealing. 

I have no idea where we’re going this evening, his activities as of late have been conducted in the comforts of our bathroom. If we’re not going out to eat or see a play, we don’t typically go out at all. Looking around, I realize that he’s taken me to a part of town I simply can’t recognize. Its starless, the tradition bright lights of the city hidden amongst the overgrown bushes and territorial trees. Mortals stand on street corners and lean up against buildings, staring at Lestat’s mane and look as though they’re ready to tear him to pieces. He pays them no mind, still dragging me along and scolding me for slowing my pace. 

“Pick up your heels now Louis, we’re almost there!” He spits, the excitement practically lacing the tip of his tongue. Wherever we’re going, he’s in a great hurry.

I stop abruptly, Lestat’s hand still wrapped in a hard grip around mine, “And where exactly is ‘there?’ I haven’t seen you in this much of a rush since the circus was in town.”

My stopping irritates him, prompting Lestat to stomp his foot like a child and stare at me with his icy gaze, “Don’t worry about where we’re going! It’s a surprise and you can’t know until we get there!” 

“It’s because you know I’d say no if I knew isn’t it? That’s become the general theme of your activities as of late,” I sigh and start walking again, “Fine, whisk me off to wherever you’d like but please loosen your grip; I’m quite fond of my right hand sweetheart.”

No more than five minutes later we walk towards a small building at the end of the street. A big sign reading “ _Fleur de Lis Tattoo _” hanging over the glass double doors. A flash of nervousness shoots down my spine and I tighten my grip on Lestat’s hand. It’s not that I’m scared of needles, I impale others and myself for pleasure; needles truly are the least of my worries. I just don’t want this to become one of his new obsessions. The glint in his eyes and the smile on his face tell me however, that I’m “shit out of luck” as they say nowadays.__

__“Lestat…” I start to say, but he kisses both of my cheeks as a means of assurance._ _

__“Hush now Louis, I only made an appointment for myself this evening, but if he has any extra time I’m sure you could get one if you want!”_ _

__He drags me into the shop and pushes me towards a small leather loveseat in the corner of the room. A tattoo, Lestat means to get a tattoo. How long this would mark his skin I have absolutely no idea, this could be faded by dawn or last for weeks. I suppose it doesn’t matter either way, I think to myself, he doesn’t feel any pain whatsoever and quite likes the feeling regardless._ _

__I will most likely have my own imprint on this couch by the end of the month._ _

__No sooner after Lestat signs his name and hands over his false ID with one of his various pseudonyms, the tattoo artist walks out with Lestat’s design on a piece of paper. My eyes go wide as I see him fawn over the tracing and tell the artist it’s exactly what he wanted._ _

__It’s my name in delicate script inside of a bleeding heart, two puncture wounds marking the first and last letter. A sick imitation of our first introduction and our eventual lives together. Despite its beautiful appearance on paper, I can’t imagine where this must be going on his body._ _

__Lestat runs over to me clutching the design and reaching out for my hand, “Come now it’s time! Oh I’m so nervous, would you come with me dear?” He asks._ _

__“I don’t have much of a choice do I?”_ _

__“That’s correct, now come on. We don’t want to keep the lovely man waiting.” He pulls me up of off the couch and leads me into the back of the shop._ _

__Marcus’ work space is small; only a work table with various colors of ink and needles, a seat for viewing and a large chair where the action takes place fill the room. Looking around, he’s quite the artistic fellow. Hundreds of small translucent papers with animals, scantily clad women and other more personal things scatter the walls. I take to the small chair and Lestat takes to the practitioners, making last minute assurances with the tattoo artist. Something about it being full color and the location._ _

__I chime into the conversation, my attention being broken from its fascination of the artistry, just as Lestat says he wants the tattoo on his left butt-cheek. He looks to me as he says it, the slightest hint of mischief in his voice that only I can register._ _

__“Yes, that’s right. Full color on the heart and the blood drips, right over here.” Lestat gives his butt a little poke and laughs along with Marcus._ _

__Marcus looks to me, still laughing, “Are you his boyfriend or something? He seems to like you enough to get your name on his ass, so I hope so.”_ _

__I give a subtle nod and a light chuckle, trying not to let my rising frustration alter my voice, “Or something.”_ _

__He takes that for an answer and prompts Lestat to take off his pants; only to realize that within the time it took for him to ask his question, Lestat already did. Laying on his stomach and staring at me, he looks as though he’s about to burst. I decide not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me any more thrown than he already has. The tattoo machine starts up with a loud buzzing sound as Marcus prepares the ink and sanitizes Lestat’s chosen area._ _

__“Alright, you ready? This shouldn’t hurt too much, you’ve got enough muscle back here it should only be a pinch.”_ _

__This makes Lestat laugh and make direct eye contact with me, “As ready as I’ll ever be my good sir. And thank you! I’ve started doing squats, glad someone’s noticed.”_ _

__I roll my eyes as the needle touches down with Lestat’s ass, he doesn’t make a single noice or tense up. Of course he doesn’t, it’s not like he can feel any pain at this point anyway. That makes me start to wonder, why did he bother doing this at all? The nails and hair make sense, temporary but visibly daring additions to his already flamboyant nature. But tattoos are done for the pain, for the end result looking all the more beautiful after what ones endured to get it. If this end result will be gone by the next morning and he feels nothing; then what truly is he gaining here? I spend the next two hours thinking this over as Marcus makes good work of outlining, coloring and shading Lestat’s impudent design._ _

__When it’s finally all done and wrapped, Lestat gets up off of the table and makes his way over to the mirror hanging on the wall, pants left on the floor._ _

__“Oh Marcus you’ve outdone yourself! It’s just as I pictured it! Isn’t it just wonderful Louis?” He looks over to me for some sense of appreciation, gesturing for me to come over and look with his hips._ _

__Begrudgingly, I make my way over to him and his new addition. The heart is almost as vibrant a pink as his hair, with red blood drops and my name in what I now recognize as my own handwriting._ _

__“It’s - truly something Lestat. Wonderful job Marcus, it looks as though I wrote my name myself.”_ _

__The artist smiles with pride and nods his thanks, putting away his materials and leaves us so that Lestat can put his pants on. In less than a minute, I start to bombard him with the questions I’ve been thinking up since the moment we walked in here._ _

__“Lestat, you are probably closer to marble than the statue of David, why would you get a tattoo? What’s the point? It’s most likely going to be gone by the end of the week anyway, so you’ve spent this money and made this man work for nothing!”_ _

__He simply looks at me as he pulls up the fly on his trousers and wraps his hands around my waist, “Well, if you haven’t notice my idiot love, it’s a tattoo for you! I know that I can’t feel a thing, but I was curious to if my body would see it as a wound or as a gentle affliction. I may not feel the pain of a needle as a mortal can Louis, but I can still feel it! I quite like the feeling of it too, it almost tickles.”_ _

__“And why, if this was an experiment all along, would you get a tattoo for me?”_ _

__“You know that I’m quite a flare for the dramatic my darling and I do love you very much; what would you expect me to get? Some stupid lion’s head or band around my arm? Did you see the little bite mark? I added that last minute, it’s quite funny if you think about how we met!”_ _

__He very pleased with himself, so much so I can practically smell it. I smack him on his freshly wounded cheek and he flinches, squeezing my waist. Can’t have him getting too proud of himself, that’s when we get into the most trouble._ _

__We walk out of the small tattooing room and into the main lobby. It’s almost closing time, the shop empty besides us, Marcus and the receptionist._ _

__“Now remember, you’re gonna want to keep that covered for at most a day. And no funny business for at least a week, unless you want it to take longer to heal.” Marcus says with a wink, swiping Lestat’s credit card._ _

__The implication makes us both laugh, Lestat louder than me, “You did say that I liked him a lot didn’t you? We’ll try our best. Thanks again for the tattoo, _au revoir _.”___ _

____Back into the dark street we went, the cold wind blowing his cotton candy locks from his shoulders. He grabs ahold of my hand and swings our arms back and forth. Lestat’s overwhelmingly happy with himself, his sunbeam smile catching every window and broken bottle in the gutter._ _ _ _

____“We’re going to be back here tomorrow aren’t we?’ I say, catching his contagious smile._ _ _ _

____He stops and drapes his arms around my neck and kisses me on the mouth, “Why? Did you want one to match mine? I’m sure that can be arranged.”_ _ _ _

____I smack his butt again and we continued strolling down the street, the lights of the Quarter showing themselves once again in the distance._ _ _ _


	4. Golden Hoops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Lestat make another request of Marcus.

In a flurry of passion and thrown limbs after Lestat’s date with the needle, he asked me if I would do anything to please him. He has a look in his eyes that under any given circumstance would make me concede anything I had on the spot. It’s a look of longing, vulnerability with a gentle layer of passion. I can hold my own with him most of the time, making him move the world for me if I really wanted to; but I am nothing against that look. Given our position at the time and the lust in the air, of course I said yes. Now here we are, going right back into that dark section of New Orleans with the same shady minded strangers giving us the evil eye. He for once told me what we were doing here, he's somehow convinced me to get my ears pierced tonight. 

I don’t remember agreeing to this, and yet the doors of the _Fleur de Leis Tattoo _swing open, and I am shoved on the same leather love seat with a loud huff to show my disapproval.__

__“Back again are we? Have you guys decided to get a matching set?” Marcus beams from the reception desk, clearly happy to see us as Lestat gave him a substantial tip the night before._ _

__Lestat gestures to me across the room and flashes me a smile, “No nothing like that, he doesn’t like me that much unfortunately,” he jokes and lets out a sigh, “But he is here to get a new addition. Come and tell the lovely gentleman what you want Louis.”_ _

__He holds out his arm, his gentle signal that he wants me at his side. Lestat clutches onto my hand and traces circles into my thumb, some attempt at coaxing me to speak. He’s perfectly aware that he’s backed me into this, but also perfectly aware that I could’ve said no anytime I wanted to._ _

__“I’d like to get my ears pierced, with hoops if you don’t mind.”_ _

__Marcus slaps his hands together and walks towards a room in the back and beckons for us to follow. It’s smaller than the tattooing room, with just a practitioners chair and a long table of sanitizing equipment and jewelry. Lestat looks to be more excited than I am, curiously I’m surprised that I’m excited at all. The shots of adrenaline making my heart race slightly, if this is what he felt before getting his tattoo, I can understand Lestat’s wide grins and laughter. Lestat rubs circles on the small of my back and makes that same face that he did last night. The look of longing and passion, I’m making him overwhelmingly happy by even coming back here; whether or not I remember actually agreeing completely unimportant._ _

__“Alright Louis, time to get some holes in your ears! Do me a favor and sit down right over here,” He smacks the seat of the chair and I sit down, forcing Lestat to let me go and trade my back for my hand, “Now don’t move, you’re just going to feel a slight pinch on three.”_ _

__Lestat and I make eye contact and immediately break out into fits of giggles, annoying Marcus who had the needle delicately placed over my earlobe. Just the same with Lestat’s inking last night, we both know that I’ll feel absolutely nothing._ _

__“I’m sorry my friend, just an inside joke of ours. Louis has an exceptional pain tolerance so it’s highly doubtful he’ll so much as cringe.” Lestat manages to make out through small fits of continued laughter._ _

__Marcus nods, eager to get the job finished and repositions himself, counting down to three and slipping the needle into my fleshy earlobe. I make eye contact with Lestat all the while, his beautiful blue eyes marveled at the entire process. I can see the wheels spinning in his head and I know for a fact he’s going to be in the chair next. Just as I predicted, I felt nothing both times and before I knew it had two small shiny hoops dangling from my ears. Admiring how they looked in the mirror, I saw Lestat slowly creep into my previous position in the chair. I turned around on my heels and he looked up at me with that same admiration, eyeing my earrings before eventually looking into my eyes and softening a little bit. His own adrenaline making him shake his legs as Marcus sterilizes a new needle and the small diamond earrings that Lestat chose for himself._ _

__“Well I quite like those for you, they’ll bring out your eyes.” I say approvingly, taking ahold of his hand and watching as Marcus counts down and plunges the needle into his earlobe. He goes back to tracing small circles on my thumb and squeezing my hand gently, staring at the intertwinement of our fingers._ _

__When the job is all finished, Marcus pats Lestat on the shoulder, “You guys weren’t kidding when you said you had high pain tolerances. I’ve been doing this for ten years and you’re the first guys I’ve ever pierced that haven’t bled at all. You’ve got my respect for that.”_ _

__We both look at each other for a beat and laugh again, “It’s the iron, we’re both ravenous meat eaters. It’s quite a problem really.” Lestat answers, slipping a fifty dollar tip under his shoulder to meet Marcus’ hand._ _

__Lestat pays for the piercings at the front desk and blows a kiss to Marcus, “Goodbye friend, you’ll most likely see us again soon!”_ _

__Hand in hand we walk back out onto the dim street, Lestat quickly pulling me into an ally next to the tattoo shop; his hands above my hips pinning me up against the wall._ _

__“I don’t feel like walking home, do you?” He whines, kissing me softly on my jaw._ _

__I nod a quick “no” and he wastes no time wrapping himself around me and whisking us into the air, careful to go above the clouds so no one spots us. The lights and ever present music of the city barely visible besides a soft blur and low vibration from our height. I love nights like this, no bickering or grudges separating us; just him and I utterly enraptured in our feelings for one another. He’s truly beautiful when he smiles, I’m reminded of this all the time because he does it so often these days. It makes me happy to see him so, a small part of myself waking up and coming alive each time he throws his head back to laugh. He’s egotistical and irritating sometimes, but he is in fact mine. That alone makes it all worth it._ _

__We arrive home in almost no time at all, the sky opening itself up in a downpour the second we touch the ground. Quickly, we make our way inside and Lestat starts up the living room fireplace as I hang up our damp coats in the hall closet. I grab the book I’m currently reading off of the small table next to the sofa and make myself comfortable amongst the overstuffed pillows. Not long after I turn my first page, I hear a loud series of thumps and see Lestat shoot through the air and straight onto the couch; his head kneading itself in my lap and his long legs taking up all of the space to my right._ _

__“Can you give me a small warning next time before you decide to jump on me like a tiger darling?” I mutter, putting down my book in its original spot and moving locks of pink hair from around Lestat’s face to eventually display his ears. They’ve already healed and the small false diamonds sparkle in the warm light of the fire._ _

__He grabs ahold of one of my hands and grazes his lips across my knuckles, “Now do tigers warn their prey before they attack? I don’t think so, they would be quite stupid ones if they did.”_ _

__I laugh softly in agreeance, leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the forehead before reaching to grab my book once again. A tangle of arms wrapping themselves around my waist stops me and I give up, throwing the book over the back of the couch and giving Lestat my undivided attention._ _

__“What do you need Lestat? Do these not give you enough satisfaction as it is?” I whisper, gesturing to my ears with a shake of my head. He reaches his arms up and grabs ahold of my cheeks, turning my head with a light push and examines the little golden hoops._ _

__“They make you look like a pirate a little bit Louis, with your dark hair and even darker fashion sense. I quite like them, jewelry always did look quite dashing on you.”_ _

__“A pirate?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, “Maybe I should start carrying a sword and wearing those billowy shirts we all used to wear. Don’t give me that face I was completely kidding Lestat.”_ _

__His eyes are bright and full of life as he pulls my arm down to support his head, “You did say you would do anything to please me, I’m sure we have a sword around here somewhere.”_ _

__Lestat examines my face with such an intensity that I have to look away to catch my breath. He only gives me a split second, grabbing me by my chin and pulling me down into a deep kiss. He breaks first and pulls himself into my lap, clinging to me like a child as I wrap my arms completely around him; leaving barely any room to breathe. Our chests move in synch, the heavy rain on the windows and the crackling of fire being the only sounds besides our beating hearts._ _

__“Thank you for putting up with me my love. I know my antics as of late have made you tired.” He says into my neck, his hand finding its way into my hair._ _

__I lean into his touch and stand, hoisting him up along with me and making my way slowly to the stairs, “No problem sweetheart, as long as you have no qualms about making it up to me.”_ _

__Lestat kisses my throat, his teeth making their way to my new earrings and tugging gently, “That won’t be a problem at all _monsieur _.”___ _


	5. Kissed by the Sun Once Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place after The Tale of the Body Thief, Lestat craves to have his tan back.

I’m sure by now we’re all aware of Lestat’s attempt at his own life. Flinging himself directly into the sun in the middle of the Gobi, hoping to be fired to a crisp. For days he sat out there, reveling in every rise of the sun waiting for the final ray to end him for good. The only thing Lestat was left with however, was a golden tan and horrible pain in his skin. It took years for him to fade back to his almost milky complexion, the scars of his attempt being seen only in a small glow across his body. Since those days, he’s never tried such an idiotic thing again; he promised me so. Which come to think of it doesn’t quite mean as much as I thought it did at the time. 

He loved that tan though, spending hours brushing out his golden locks and staring at the way the lights danced across his skin. Enjoying the envying looks from strangers on our nights out and looking for once like he rightfully belonged amongst them. He may belittle me for finding a certain sensuality in being mortal, but he’s right there along with me whether he admits it or not. 

Only one of us gave it all up for a night to truly taste being mortal. And it wasn’t me.

Lestat’s decided to take me along on one of his escapades to his beloved beauty store. It’s a long awaited trip of mine quite frankly, going into modern shops with Lestat always proves to be an eventful evening. Despite living for as long as he has and seeing the things he’s seen, going into a store of the 21st century always fascinates him. Like a small child, he has to touch absolutely everything. There is not a single item, no matter how small, that doesn’t find its way under his fingertips. Going into a grocery store is the worst, we clearly don’t need to consume food, but he likes to go and watch the vegetables get their hourly misting. It’s a true test of my patience and conversation skills, explaining to workers and the general passerby as to why we’re still standing in front of the broccoli after fifteen minutes. 

Nevertheless, he enjoys my company, though his whining leads me to believe otherwise sometimes. Besides, someone has to usher him along so he isn’t lost in a trance for an hour standing before a common vending machine. 

The shop isn’t far away from our manor, a steady ten minute walk through our neighborhood through herds of mortals both sober and otherwise. It’s become quite the lively town over the years, attracting a choice crowd of young people and creatives. The gentle sounds of guitar strings and the bass of a nearby club work almost like a serenade as we arrive at our destination. The storefront is bright, neon and florescent lights showing themselves boldly through the large window displaying all it has to offer. 

“There she is, my home away from home!” Lestat beams proudly, as if the shop is his. Come to think, with his new affinity for it he might have bought it by now.  
A gentle twinkle of a bell alerts the small woman at the register of our arrival, her face immediately lighting up as she comes around the counter and greets Lestat with open arms. 

“Lucas my darling hello! What are we after this evening, more pink hair dye? We just got in a new brand if you wanted to switch it up!” She’s a petite woman, coming up to Lestat’s elbow, but pulls him into a hug with an impressive grip nonetheless. 

He returns the embrace, picking her up off her feet and getting a surprised giggle in return, “That does sound quite appealing Kim, but not tonight. I’m quite enjoying the return of my natural color for once. My friend and I are just here to peruse tonight, pay us no mind my dear.” He offers her one of his charming smiles and she blushes just slightly.

Kim looks me up and down, stopping for a few seconds on my nails which Lestat insisted on painting royal blue before we left. She turns back to Lestat, gives him a light nod and a matching smile and returns back to her position at the register. 

The store in its entirety is quite large, the back wall completely covered in mannequin heads with wigs in all cuts and colors. Aisles and aisles with small labels cover the entire floor and various stations for makeup and nail polish testing fill two walls. I can see why Lestat comes here so frequently, it’s an organized maze of everything that could possibly attract him. He runs to the nail polish section first naturally, immediately picking up a bottle of glitter and testing it out. Predicting a spree of some kind, I picked up a basket and held it out for him. He paid it no mind and instinctively tried to hand the small bottle to me, like he does during all of our other shopping excursions. 

“Louis could you please- oh! Thank you so much my sweet, you’re probably going to regret doing that.” Lestat plants a light peck on my cheek and puts the bottle in the basket gently.

Quickly he moves on from the nail polish wall and makes his way up and down the aisles. He looks like he’s on the prowl, his steps barely making a sound against the white tile. Two boxes of purple hair dye, a silver hairbrush, and several bottles of acetone make their way into the basket. It’s like he’s dancing, the way that he paces around the store, turning himself around to view the other side and stopping gracefully when something catches his eye. I merely follow, Lestat practically forgetting that I’m there besides when it’s time to hand me another item. That is until one particular section catches his attention and he lets out a gasp. 

“What is it Lestat, another hair color suit your fancy?” I ask, making my way over to him slowly.

His eyes look like blue marbles and he starts to hop up and down like a rabbit, “Look at this wondrous thing! This ‘self tanning kit’ they have here! Louis I can get my golden complexion back once and for all, they really do think of everything today don’t they?” Lestat proceeds to grab five of the brown bottles and throw them in the basket. 

Kim, seeing him jump up and down like a child, comes rushing over, “Is everything alright Lucas? I know you don’t like to be disturbed while you shop but I heard a gasp.” A concerned look on her face dulls his outward excitement out of respect for her worry.

“Oh everything is more than alright my darling, now how would one go about applying this tanning liquid?” He holds out the bottle to Kim and she lightly pushes past me to get to him. The two of them spent the next few minutes collecting the necessary materials from around the shop, me following close behind like a puppy. 

Finally our trip ends as Lestat swipes his card and several iterations of “goodbye” pass between him and Kim. Of course I carry the bags as he leads us back into the streets, a sudden burst of noise and lights filling all empty space.

I nudge him with my elbow to get his attention, “You and Kim have quite the dynamic, _Lucas _. Should I be jealous?”__

__“Of my darling Kim? Don’t be absurd Louis, she’s quite far from my type.” He nudges me back and hooks his arm around mine, setting the pace at a leisurely stroll._ _

__“And what exactly is your type?”_ _

__He looks me up and down with a certain ferocity it makes my breath hitch, “Tall, dark and handsome. A sense of melancholy and brooding, gives them a dash of character and mystery. Green eyes aren’t a necessity but they definitely help.”_ _

__“You think I’m mysterious?” I ask as we walk up the front steps of our manor._ _

__He chuckles and unlocks the front door, opening it and letting me walk in first, “Who said I was talking about you?”_ _

__A gentle kiss on my forehead alleviates my feigned expression of shock as he snatches the bags from my hands and sprints up the stairs. I waste no time, I have maybe twenty minutes of silence at most while he’s up there playing with his new toys. Taking to my chair in the library, I flip to my bookmarked page of _“And Then There Were None” _and throw myself into the words before he calls for me._ _ __

__

__To my surprise, I was able to get through a full chapter and he didn’t call for me once. I didn’t hear the grand scream of displeasure or so much as a footstep in almost forty-five minutes. Deciding against my better judgment I went back to reading, he could be furiously trying to scrub off the false tanner as to not embarrass himself. My walking in on him when he doesn’t want to be seen always results in the slamming of doors or something being thrown at me. Over an hour has passed by and I was now so wrapped up in my story that I hadn’t noticed the cracking of thunder outside or Lestat appearing in the doorway. I saw him, sensed him watching me and yet I didn’t look up. The words were holding me hostage and each sentence simply tightened its grip; Agatha Christie was a hell of a writer. Eventually I heard a loud sigh from the doorway and felt Lestat poke my temple. My hand came up immediately to swat him away, Lestat quickly snatching the book and laying it gently on the table beside me._ _

__His hands conjured my gaze instantaneously, looking as though they were brushed with wood lacquer. I stood up to take him in in his entirety; he was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, every contour and muscle in his chest highlighted with his now bronzed tone. I had almost forgotten just how dark he was before, a stark contrast compared to the man of marble I had gotten so used to. Lestat was reveling in my gaze, following my eyes and puffing out his chest slightly with his growing confidence. I was doing absolutely nothing to curb his ego and would probably come to regret this later._ _

__“I know, I did the same thing after I was finished. I look like a completely new man! Kissed by the sun once again! Finally, mortals can stop asking me if I have anemia .”_ _

__“Kissed by the sun once again…” I repeat, staring utterly enamored at how similar he looks to the night he came back to me after abandoning himself in the desert._ _

__He starts to slowly spin around, I presume to give me a full view of his work he’s ever so proud of, “I was tempted to ask for your assistance when it came to my back, but decided against it as I thought you’d crucify me for making your hands dirty. This stuff is a bitch to clean up.”_ _

__“Did you stain the bathroom Lestat?” I cross my arms and scowl at him, trying to bring his ego down a step before he gets out of hand. A genie in a bottle that ego of his, once awakened it takes a true effort to get it back._ _

__“Like a child with a paint set my beloved, don’t worry though. I tried my best to clean it with some bleach I found and left the cleaning women a note about it for the morning. Just, shower downstairs if you-” He got distracted suddenly by the way the lamp on the side table reflected off of his skin. I could see red tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he examined his fingers, then his hands and finally grabbing desperately at his chest to ensure the color wouldn’t fade from touch alone._ _

__“You look like you’re alive again if that’s what you’re thinking. Truly mistakable for a mortal besides those blasted fangs of yours,” I said quietly, trying to reassure him and stop the coming onslaught of tears. “Please don’t cry now sweetheart, you did such a marvelous job on your face. You don’t want to streak it with blood and ruin it.”_ _

__Lestat tilts his head back as a means to force the tears back to where they came from. In an instant, he starts to laugh so loud it hurts my ears, turning to me and lifting me off of my feet with little effort, “I look alive again!” He spins me around the room and kisses me, laughing and smiling, hardly able to contain his joy.__

__I’ve seen many things during this life, but this site is still one of the most beautiful I’ve ever witnessed. The unshielded, unafraid and pure joy of my lover is enough to thaw me out on my coldest days, even if he is the one who froze me in the first place._ _

_  
_


	6. Black Ringlets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestat leaves Louis home alone with his new curling iron.

As close as I thought we were to the finish line of Lestat’s seemingly never ending discoveries, I have once again been made a fool. This time, he’s moved away from doing things by hand; abandoning the hours he would spend with his fingers wrapped around his locks, hoping to form a curl. An utter catastrophe would become of an evening if he woke up on the wrong side of the coffin and found a section of hair to be flat. Curls deflated, volume lost and frizz galore. Lestat’s gentle finger waves would make a steady attempt at revival, but the golden tresses never quite looked the same twice. This irritated him beyond compare, so he decided to bring home a curling iron from his beloved store and a flat-iron to match. Everything must be done in duos with him, which I’ve always found to be confusing. 

It utterly fascinated him and with every use he got better and better, making a nightly ritual out of it. I would wake up each evening and hear him singing loudly as if to an audience, only to go into the bathroom and find him burning his fingers but making a blonde nest of curls with each flick of his wrist. Lestat decided quite early on that he didn’t like the flat-iron and I didn’t make that determination any easier I’m afraid. It was a simple mistake on my part; I told him that with his hair slicked down that way, he would make Marius jealous. Being compared to his mentor who hurt him so made him throw the thing in the trash and never look back. Lestat never quite got over Marius’ disapproving glare the night he burnt my hovel to the dirt. It’s been nothing but coils and curls since.

Tonight, Lestat left a note by the front door saying that he wanted to hunt alone. Nothing moody or out of character for him; everyone likes some elbowroom when they dine sometimes. That left me completely alone in the house for the first time in weeks. I would usually jump on the opportunity and make use of the open time, but I’ve gotten so used to Lestat pestering me that the sound of nothing but the ticking clocks are driving me crazy. In an attempt to bring the house back to life, dare I say it, I turn on the TV and blast whatever channel was last watched. Lucky for me, it’s the History Channel.

I find that I’m too restless to sit and learn about the Middle Ages however and quickly grow antsy on the couch. So, I start to pace aimlessly from room to room; hoping to find something that’ll fill the time before Lestat gets back. The bathroom takes up my attention, more specifically the curling iron that’s been left plugged in on the counter. 

“I’ve told him that this house will burn because of his vanity.” I mutter, picking up the iron and checking to see if it’s still on. A harsh sear to my finger tells me that it is. 

I know that I won’t burn let alone blister, but the sensation forces my finger into my mouth like a mortal with a paper-cut. The action makes me laugh as I look down at the silly machine that caused my affliction. A sudden curiosity took over me, as it usually does with anything new. 

“It can’t be that hard, curling your hair, if Lestat can learn in a night so can I.” 

He makes it look extraordinarily easy, whisking each section on his blonde mane and wrapping it around the barrel of the machine; a perfect curl left in its wake. From memory, I try to mimic the motions. Picking up a small section of hair next to my forehead and carefully coiling it around the curling iron, trying my best to keep my fingers away. Lestat always counts to five, so I do the same; eventually letting go and looking in joyous shock as my hair bobs up and down in a perfect spring-like shape. The excitement that overtakes me makes me jump up and down before collecting myself and trying again with the next section of hair. 

“Lestat’s going to go mad when he comes home and finds me like this. Oh when he sees that I did to myself what he’s been begging to do for days…” I trail off, sticking my tongue out to hone in and focus on the task at hand.

Before I know it, an entire side of my head is finished, at half its usual length and looking like a sea of black vines. I pose in the mirror, I think I look quite handsome if I do say so myself. Now’s the tricky part, doing the other side with my opposing hand. I take a deep breath, set my stance and wrap the first lock of hair by my ear; burning the top of it immediately. 

“Fuck.” I whisper, feeling the top of my ear for a mark I know will never show.

It takes me almost twice as long as the first and three times the amount of scraps with the iron, but the other side of my head is eventually done. Taking it all in, I don’t quite like myself with curly hair as much as I thought I would. It’s flattering don’t get me wrong, but it makes me realize that my hair in it’s natural form weighs me down. I look more awake with these black ringlets of mine and it’s not my favorite, I prefer to look dark and brooding. 

Just as I finish wrapping up the cord of the iron and putting it in the cabinet, I hear the front door swing open and Lestat make his typical grand entrance. He’s been watching quite a lot of sitcoms lately and they’ve influenced his vocabulary ever so…gracefully.

“Honey! I’m home!” He shouts, voice bouncing itself off of the walls and reaching me in the bathroom. 

I can hear him coming, the heels of his boots clicking on the hardwood as he makes his way down the hallway. When he sees me, he almost looks right past me before stopping in his tracks and doing a double-take. I see the surprise first, ignoring my face completely and looking around my head as if I had a halo. Then comes the annoyance, a clear indication of my previous speculation; he’s mad that he didn’t get to do it first. Finally, the attraction as he smiles and leans against the doorframe; he makes no secret of that fact that he likes it, his eyes looking me up and down. 

“I see we’ve had an interesting evening, Louis. Now who did that for you?”  
  
I smile and cross my arms, “Well that would be me Lestat, do you like it?”  


He walks over to me slowly and adjusts my hair, brushing out some of the false curls with his fingers, “I would if you didn’t look like a doll, come here let me soften some of these for you. Turn around.”

I oblige and let him do whatever he likes, he wants to have something to do with this transformation and I’m too tired to stop him. His fingers feel nice, ever so gently pulling and separating and making it look however he thinks it should. I can hear him muttering under his breath, something about how tight I made the curls and how he hates when I touch his things. 

“What was that?” I ask, turning around when he’s finally finished. 

“Nothing darling, I just don’t like sharing my toys,” He gasps, changing the subject. “Now look at you! You’re truly going to send me packing, Louis you look beautiful.” Lestat places his hands on my hips and kisses my cheeks. 

He’s warm, his hands feeling like small bonfires against my skin, “ _Merci _Lestat,” I pull him in for a hug, resting my chin on his shoulder. “And trust me, I’m well aware of how much you hate sharing your toys; I’m living proof darling.”__

__This annoys him and he swats me on the butt playfully, “Hush with that! You are not my toy, you are my lover whom I’ve dedicated my life to keeping by my side.”_ _

__“Like a child with his favorite stuffed animal?” I retort, taking his hand and dragging my now ruffled husband into the living room._ _

__Lestat pushes me onto the couch and takes up his typical position of burying his head in my lap and tossing the blanket over only himself. Which makes me laugh, as he’s just fed so I have no idea what the blanket would be for._ _

__He looks up at me, a small pout playing on his lips, “Could you let me curl it tomorrow? Kim showed me a new attachment for it that can make these humungous spirals like you’ve never seen.” Lestat reaches up a hand and delicately wraps one of my curls around his finger, “Please?”_ _

__Smiling, I lean down and kiss him with both of my hands on his cheeks. He leans into me, reaching for the back of my head and knocking the blanket onto the floor._ _

__“You can do whatever you want my love, as long as you say please.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably going to be the last update for this story for a while, feel free to leave any ideas for future chapters you'd like to see!


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